


FaceTime

by larissabernstein



Series: The Krolock Chronicles [4]
Category: Tanz der Vampire - Steinman/Kunze
Genre: Butt Plugs, Canon Compliant, Computers, Crack, Dance of the Vampires - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Masturbation, Modern Era, Original Broadway Cast, Phone Sex, Romance, Sexual Humor, Silly, Vampires, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:55:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23113561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larissabernstein/pseuds/larissabernstein
Summary: It is the year 2020, and modern technology is a blessing — even for the cursed immortals among us. Silliness with the pointy-toothed Broadway Count.
Relationships: Sarah Chagal/Graf von Krolock
Series: The Krolock Chronicles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726684
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	FaceTime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vfrankenstein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vfrankenstein/gifts).



> Utter crack, but lovingly so. Modern setting but more or less canon-compliant thanks to the longevity of these characters.  
> Dedicated to my dear Lillian who continues to enrich my life with her kindness, humour, and brilliant mind.

**FaceTime**

There was a relentless tremor going through his hands, be it from impatient arousal or from frustration with the insufficient technical means to satisfy it, or maybe both, and it did nothing to make the task any easier. It was infuriating, stressful, made him feel silly, and if Krolock had not been absolutely sure that the goal was worth the efforts, he would have given up on the endeavour in its very beginning.

“Let’s try it,” Sarah had said. “It will be fun,” she had said. And, in an entirely unfair manipulative move, she had used this special smoky voice on him that promised pleasures beyond his most daring dreams, and not even the abysmal, crackling connection, caused by the geographical distance of half a globe and several time zones between them, had made her call any less attractive. A _mobile call_ , the modern world simply named it, but Krolock knew that it had been nothing but a siren’s call, perpetuating the ancient tradition of luring man and feeding his desire, only to kill him in the end, probably with the utterly unpleasant, no, outright torturous, denial of fulfilment. Because how was he going to find sweet relief, if he already met failure at the mere outset; how was he to steer his ship right into the siren’s magical realm, if he could not even set sail?

He allowed himself a deep sigh and tried to remember what the instructor at the evening class had taught him, but truth to be told, this class had been nothing but a giant waste of time, and the elderly mortal commoners that made up the major part of his fellow students nothing but a giant nuisance, and no matter how mad Sarah had been at him, draining the ever-pubescent nerd that had dared to talk to him, Count Giovanni Capellini Trovatore von Krolock himself, brilliant scientist and outstanding scholar for centuries, in a condescending and belittling tone not even fit for addressing a stupid little child, draining that guy of all his lifeblood without even giving him the chance to transform into one of his kind — and, really, that had been an act of mercy, because who would want to stay a pimply, erotically inept IT student for all eternity?! — had been a result of justified rage. There had to be more dignified ways to keep up with the ever-changing challenges of a modern world, and computer training for senior citizens was at the very bottom of the list.

Krolock adjusted himself through his terribly tight briefs — curse that modern underwear! —, and exhaled in another loud sigh that, thankfully, no one was around to witness. Sarah was waiting for him, and he was not going to disappoint her or give her any chance to doubt his abilities. “Have you tried turning it off and on again?” The words of the support hotline echoed in his brain, and it was ridiculous, not least because he was already so desperately hard that there was no way he could get any more turned on, but what else could he do than try exactly that one more time, and to his utter surprise and no little anger, it actually worked and the screen of the laptop flickered alive.

“Ready for fun?” His phone on the table beeped with the incoming text message and he flinched at the sudden noise.

“Ready for girth?” He typed back with one finger, as fast as he could, and grinned at his own wittiness, while this weirdly named application — why call it “FaceTime” to begin with when most people were using it for sexual encounters and video close-ups of genitals? — opened on the computer screen in front of him. And before he knew it, Sarah’s call came through and her tempting curves filled the picture in front of him, decked out in the lingerie set that spoke best to his aesthetic preferences — a mere hint of lace and mesh in his favourite colour that did nothing to hide the luscious breasts behind its transparent veil; and how she moved, sensually throwing her hair back and letting her hands roam over the sheer fabric.

“Bellissima! Che pezzo di figa!” He could only exclaim, praising the erotic display — a display only for _his_ pleasure, and wasn’t that unbelievable given how undeserving he was —, and hoped that she knew well enough that her beauty was surely not the only thing he loved about her, but right now, with this private show, he was reduced to primal sensations and felt his mouth water at the sight. “You are-a perfect, cara mia, a goddess, a—“

“Giovanni,” she interrupted him and giggled, “I’m glad you approve. But let me see you, too? Please? That was supposed to be a sexy date, not a porn flick for you.”

Oh, Krolock realised, oh, she could not see him.

Oh, no.

It had to be his damned curse, of course, his doomed fate that even now — over a hundred years after destiny had taken an epoch-making turn for his kind — made him suffer and punished him for his sinful appetite. It came as a nasty surprise, he had to admit, and one may call this lament a weakness, but it still hurt him; vampires could walk in the glaring light of day now, without any harm, even get a tan if they were so tastelessly inclined, but some things were still off-limits, like silver cutlery (that gave him nasty blisters when not lacquered) or traditional mirrors (that ignored his existence — but who needed them anyway, he was a master of applying his make-up blindly). However, he had thought modern technology was above such petty discrimination against vampires! Surely, the bias of silver-gelatin photography that stubbornly refused to capture his likeness for posterity was a thing of the past; and had it not been a pleasant discovery that technology had been improving continually over the decades, with the invention of mobile phone cameras probably his personal favourite, even if Sarah had poked quite a bit of fun at him for his sudden addiction to creating masterpieces of visual art that she called by the rather mundane terms _selfies_ and _dick pics_?

This was a nasty surprise then, indeed, that something as evolved and convenient as a video call over the internet made him aware of his special status again, singling him out and denying him the pleasure of normalcy, the simple joy of harmless marital fun with his queen, and it made him bitter to find out like this, with his cock standing at attention, and every fibre of his being in eager anticipation, and now he had to disappoint his beloved Sarah and—

“Giovanni?” She asked and glared at him from the screen. “Are you still there?”

He sighed and did not care that she was earwitness to his weakness this time. “It’s-a my curse,” he finally mumbled in defeat, “I apologise. This-a FaceTime does not seem to like our kind; it’s-a no better than the photography of old.”

Sarah crossed her arms over the barely covered breasts and tilted her head to the side with an appraising and mildly disapproving expression.

“My dear husband, I will take into account that you are obviously too _excited_ to make use of this brilliant brain of yours. But seriously,” she uncrossed her arms again and pointed at her own body in a sweeping gesture, “what do you think I am? Why can you see _me_?”

Krolock felt his eyes blink a few times.

“Giovanni,” she continued, “you have to turn on your laptop camera. You will show up just fine.”

He coughed sheepishly and fumbled with the touchpad until he finally found the required setting, and — “ah, there you are, my love!” — seemingly with some success.

“And blushing so nicely!” Sarah grinned at him.

Krolock just gave a grunt, but shame and embarrassment were quickly drowned out by the warm emotion her happy smile induced in him, and a renewed wave of arousal when she started to twirl one of her long amber curls with a finger, in playful invitation. He picked up the cocktail he had prepared earlier — one pint of type A negative from the blood bank with a handful of crushed berries —, and sucked a generous and noisy swig through the flamingo-shaped straw, if only to pluck up courage and gain some much needed time to get used to this new situation — being with Sarah, but also not being with her, watching her like this, but also being watched in turn.

“Seeing each other instead of just getting it on on the phone is so much better, hm?” She swayed her hips a little, showing off her body in the golden glow of what he assumed was candlelight in her hotel room. The movement caught his eyes and directed his gaze to the small triangle of sheer fabric at the apex between her thighs, and he had to put down his glass lest he risk choking on the drink or poking his eye out with the little umbrella on the rim of the glass; maybe the camera was really that high-resolution, or maybe it was his intimate knowledge of her body, but Krolock was certain he could even discern the lips of her cunt under the lace, and the neatly coiffed pubic hair that she kept the way he liked it best, and was there a slight sheen of moisture glistening in the light, or was that just his heated imagination running wild?

He licked his lips and let his eyes wander higher again, over her breasts, rising and falling in the gentle rhythm of her breathing — breathing she had no need for, but that she nevertheless allowed in shameless indulgence of her human heritage, and how he envied her this carefree approach! — and inviting him to drink it all in, let the visual fill him up with lush softness he could not touch but still feel in the very tips of his fingers.

“I… ah, I,” he licked his lips again, “I am…”

“You are overdressed,” she finished it for him. “Take that off and let me see all of you. Show me how hard you are for me. It’s just the two of us.”

Well, hopefully so, his mind added; with his luck and skill in all things computer, chances were maybe slim but not entirely off that he was broadcasting their sexual date to the _world wide web_ that very moment. But he decided against following this unpleasant train of thought and to just take things one step at a time — the worst that could happen was an increase in autograph requests and a few days of tabloid fame before the next celebrity scandal came along to replace theirs. He quickly dropped his briefs and shrugged off his robe, a soft blue terrycloth one this time instead of his more elegant yet also scratchier banyan, and drew himself up to full height and good posture, letting his stiff cock stick out proudly; while he had no illusions that there was no way he could rival her erotic display, he had learned to accept and believe that this woman liked this old and so terribly human body of his, and not only liked it but even found it enticing, no matter how incredible it seemed, letting no opportunity go by to bare him to her gaze and touch, whenever they were alone — or at least unobserved.

“Much better,” she drawled, and he could feel her eyes feast on him now, in tangible, even possessive hunger, and his skin tingled under the virtual caresses. “Touch yourself,” she continued, voice low and breathy, “feel my hands wander over your neck and arms and chest, see how my fingers long for your skin and muscle,” and she let her hands roam over her own body, stroking herself instead, showing him what to do. How could he not follow her request, with the slight feeling of being rather ridiculous and undignified only lasting for a moment, before he found his limbs obey her command and mirror her movements, soft and fleeting here, stronger and groping there, and, yes, he could feel it, her touch on his body, and also her body under the palm of his hands, in a truly magical connection defying geographical distance.

Sarah purred and moaned, entirely absorbed in this separate dance for two, and then she unclasped her bra in one flowing motion, tossing it aside and playing with her full breasts the same way he always used to knead and worship them.

“You would kiss and lick them now, wouldn’t you?” She sounded almost pleading.

“Yes, cara mia, yes,” Krolock hissed and kept stimulating his own nipples, that used to get such loving attention from her as well. “I would-a kiss and lick you all over, and-a I would-a…”

“You would bite me a little?” She made a deep humming sound and squeezed and pulled her nipples more strongly, licked two fingers and let them resume their ministrations now spit-slick and shiny, and the sight almost undid him right then and there.

“Sarah, I…” the words stuck in his throat, “I need-a…” He let his left hand fill in the blanks by cupping his hot and straining cock and the heavy sack that had been waiting for some much-needed attention way too long, ever since she had suggested this video call.

“Yes,” she nodded, out of breath, “let us take that to bed.”

The picture on his screen was shaking a little as she sat down on her hotel bed, knees bent and wide open, and tilted her screen camera to a better angle. Krolock quickly gathered his own laptop and settled on the couch.

“You need to adjust your camera a bit,” Sarah said and smiled at him, still lazily caressing her own skin, “I love that big fat cock of yours, but I also want to see your face.”

“Ah, si capisce!” He tinkered with the screen and tried out a few angles, hoping he’d get it right quickly, until she gave a nod and called out to him. “That’s it, right there!”

He chuckled and focused on her alluring form again, with the new position offering him a perfect view of her from head to cunt; there was no doubt now, he could see shiny moisture darken the lace of her panties, and she seemingly followed the gaze of his eyes, as she let one finger glide along her folds, stroking herself through the thin lace and spreading the wetness of her desire all over the tiny patch of fabric. It ripped a groan out of him, and he noticed only peripherally how his left hand had started to stroke his hard length in time with her own explorations, spreading the first beads of moisture all over the head of his cock, making his fist glide nicely and smoothly over the greedy appendage.

“Yes, stroke that cock. Feel how wet I am for you?” Sarah whispered, and, yes, he could see it, he could feel it, and his mind supplied the delicious scent and taste of her arousal.

“I’ve been dripping for you all day long,” she continued, “even during the conference. The waiting was purest torture, and I had to put on a serious face and speak for Transylvania and for our cause, but my body was throbbing in need for you, and only the prospect of our rendezvous tonight helped me make it through the diplomatic challenges.”

Two fingers were dipping beneath the fabric now, stretching it, pulling it aside to expose her cunt to his view, and he increased his own grip and pace.

“I bet the mortal politicians won’t call us cold-blooded anymore,” Sarah smiled around her words, “not with how I burned for you.” My god, were these fingers thrusting into her cunt now?

Krolock knew he should say something, anything, but only grunts and groans were willing to come out of his mouth, as he fucked into the tight fist of his hand.

“And you know what dirty little secret I hid from them?” Sarah looked at him with half-lidded eyes, as if she was ready to disclose the mystery, but then she suddenly turned around and got on her knees, presenting her backside, the string of her panties not hiding anything from him, and then she was arching her spine, and there, there… — no, had she really? A shimmering crystal peeking from between the cheeks of her arse was all that gave it away.

“I’ve been wearing this plug during the conference, feeling its weight and pressure, thinking how you would fill me when I’m back home, fuck every hole of mine with your thick cock…” She looked at him over her shoulder as she wiggled her bottom and moaned at the plug’s shifting inside her. He could clearly see how her hand was now frantically moving between her legs, working and rubbing her cunt in strong and forceful thrusts and circles.

His cock throbbed and pulsed in his own forceful grip, skin feverishly hot and pulled taut around the engorged girth, and he was not going to be able to keep it together much longer, no, the pressure was too much, dizzying. “Oh, oh,” he forced out between teeth that were pressed together almost painfully, “Sarah, I... you… it’s-a…”

She whimpered and let her hips buck more strongly into her hand. “I chose the thickest plug, of course, to be open and ready for your fat cock to simply take me, stuff me, ruin me. What do you say to your naughty queen, Giovanni?”

“I… ah… I… arrrrgh,” but nothing even slightly eloquent managed to leave his lips, and he was coming, inexorably, in violent spasms shaking his body and spurting copious strings of milky-white pearls over his hand, and the couch, and some of it onto the screen.

Maybe it had been the wait of three full days since their last intimate call, or maybe just the added novelty of seeing her like this, or maybe all of it, together with the audacious shamelessness of this amazing woman, _his_ amazing woman, feeding his lust with her sultry words and actions, but Krolock was sure he had not climaxed that hard in a long time, and he felt completely wrung out and exhausted all of a sudden.

“Giovanni?” Sarah’s voice pulled his attention back to the screen. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, staring at him in bewilderment.

“Oh, my luv, I… I’m-a so sorry, it was-a too good, too much, did you… were you…?” He knew he was babbling and a part of him felt really terrible about his egotistic loss of control, but the major part of him was just too sated to phrase a better apology, and all he wanted to do was just curl up into a boneless shape vaguely resembling an aristocrat or a giant bat, and ideally snuggle into the embrace of Sarah who was much too far away for his taste, and he could really need a comforting hug and a snooze right now.

“How are you even real?” Sarah spoke up again, but her voice held more amusement than actual anger. “First you let me do all the work here, and then you just reap the fruits and let me starve. You are damn lucky you are fucking adorable when you get all helpless and lose control like that.”

Krolock just let his hands wave about in a tired gesture, fighting the urge to just doze off with his last remains of willpower. “Helpless?” He asked, trying for a tone of outrage, but his tongue was heavy and uncooperative. “I’ll-a show you helpless. As soon as I…” He shook his head to force himself into greater alertness, but for nought, “as soon as I get-a my hands on-a you again, I’ll-a fuck you into the mattress till-a you beg me for mercy.” He willed his eyes to stay open, but that was a lost battle. “When-a are you coming anyway?”

Sarah laughed, but he could hardly see her anymore through the thick blurry haze of impending sleep. “Hopefully tonight, during a nice bath with my trusty water-proof vibrator. Modern technology is a blessing.”

“Ma no,” Krolock mumbled, “home, coming-a home, I mean, to me…”

And Sarah said something in reply, from far, far away, something with “home” and “soon” and “love” and “idiot”, but he was too far gone to hear all of it or make any sense of the verbal fragments buzzing in his dreams, but when he woke up many hours later, there was the embarrassing fact of a laptop in dire need of thorough cleaning, and the reassuring notice of a flight scheduled to land the next day, and this was enough to make him find himself a little less ridiculous or at least loved enough to just cope with it.


End file.
